


To Understand and to be Understood

by VerdiWithin



Series: Talisman [49]
Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Bachelor Party, Explicit Sex, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Married Life, Power Exchange, Requited Love, winter is coming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24685846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdiWithin/pseuds/VerdiWithin
Summary: Hades and Persephone are finding a new balance in their lives. Zeus and Poseidon take Hades out.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Series: Talisman [49]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1497371
Comments: 17
Kudos: 212





	To Understand and to be Understood

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Apollo is referred to
> 
> Previously in this series: Hades and Persephone are happily married, but their newlywed joy is overshadowed by the onset of Winter. 

“No! No, Mama, please!” 

Persephone’s distressed cry wakes me from a sound sleep. Her back is pressed up against me, and she’s twitching with agitation. I curl my body toward her, lifting my knees to tuck behind hers, my arms around her. “It’s all right, Sweetness,” I murmur. “You’re dreaming. You’re okay.”

She shudders and whimpers, still asleep, so I begin rubbing her shoulders.

“Please, no!” she wails.

I squeeze her, increasing the pressure of my stroking. “Wake up, Kore. It’s just a dream!”

She gasps softly and the quality of her voice changes, becoming more confused and inquisitive. She rolls in my arms, her hands sliding on my chest. “Better now?” I ask.

“Mmmm,” she responds, sounding much more content. 

I wait to see if she’s really awake, but her breathing evens out and I realize she’s asleep again. I can’t remember the last time I had a nightmare--it must be several weeks. In contrast, Persephone’s sleep has been worse, with frequent dreams about her mother. Guilt over the mortals’ fate and stress over being forcibly snatched away are a tough combination.

There is no place I would rather be than snuggled up in bed with Persephone. She's relaxed in my arms now, her head on my shoulder, breathing on my neck. To cap my happiness, it's Sunday, so we don't need to get up right away. I squint at the bedside clock. It’s a bit early, but not too bad. Pretty soon the dogs will demand breakfast, and that’s the only commitment we have this morning.

I don’t mind being awake, since I can enjoy holding my beloved and reflect on how lucky I am. I try not to disturb Persephone. She often wakes up in response to my waking, and she needs her sleep. I hold her close and feel her warm, relaxed body against me. The gentle sound of her breathing goes straight to my heart. Sharing sleep with another person is such a beautiful thing--I never realized before how something so simple could be so profound.

I lie still for a long time, just listening to her soft sounds. The tiny buzzing snores that she vehemently denies, the snuffles and murmurs as she dreams again. These dreams seem more peaceful, or at least aren’t disturbing enough to bother her. I watch her like the infatuated fool I truly am. Her hair is cut short, falling in little curls on her forehead. I want to kiss her pert nose and her freckled cheeks. I find myself smiling helplessly, completely absorbed in her. I can’t let myself go like this when we’re out in public, and I even try to keep it reined in when she’s awake. The last thing I want is to repel her with clingy behavior, but when she finally stirs, I can’t contain my excitement. 

“I really love being married to you,” I blurt out eagerly, as soon as she opens her eyes.

Something like a memory of embarrassment floats through my mind. If I’d been caught being so candid and emotionally exposed at any point earlier in my life, I would have been horrified with myself. But I'm surprised to find I’m not. Not at all. Being vulnerable with Persephone is an exhilarating thrill. The rewards keep coming, and I’m getting addicted.

She turns the start of a stretch into a squeeze. “Me too. G’morning, Smush.” Unaware of my inner confusion, she rubs her cheek against mine, then settles in for a sweet, gentle kiss. “Did you sleep well?” she asks.

“Yes, very. What about you? You seemed to have a bad dream.”

“Yeah. The same old thing, my mother not listening to me. It’s so frustrating.”

I feel a stab of guilt, for being the cause of estrangement between Persephone and her mother. I know that’s irrational. I know I’m just the catalyst, and the real problem is Demeter’s deep-seated fear for Persephone’s safety, and her belief that Persephone is not able to secure that safety on her own. Add in her distrust for men in general and her personal dislike for me in particular, and it’s a recipe for alienation.

“So are you going to tell me yet what we’re doing today?” Persephone asks, rubbing my chest with her fingers.

I’ve been planning a small surprise. I’ve told her to keep the day free, but not what we’re doing. “Nope,” I reply, grinning. “That’s what makes it a surprise.”

I touch my nose to hers and stroke her shoulders. I’ve been looking forward to today all week long.

She laughs, then sits up and stretches her arms wide, venting little grunts and gasps of pleasure that make me smile. “When do I get to find out?”

“After lunch. We’ll be going out, but it’s casual.”

***

In the early evening, we head over to Artemis’s for a barbecue. Persephone is looking almost indecently relaxed. We spent the afternoon at an exclusive spa in the Underworld, and availed ourselves of massages and several other services. Their hot springs in particular were quite delightful, and I’m pleased that my surprise was well received. I’m just happy to have found a way to help Persephone unwind. She’s been subjected to so many pressures lately, and I feel responsible.

When we arrive we find a lot of people standing around the yard holding drinks, in a crowd near a big grill where Artemis is cooking meat. Persephone lets the dogs out of the car, since they were explicitly invited, too. Cerberus goes right up to Artemis’s giant wolf and the two of them sniff one another warily. I keep an eye on this until it looks like they’ve reached an accord. The other dogs blissfully ignore our hostess’s pet and make a beeline for Hebe. They know from past experiences that my little niece is very likely to give them treats.

I slip my arm around Persephone and we go to greet Artemis. I trace my fingers along my wife’s shoulder straps. She’s wearing a cute white sundress with black dots all over it. It’s cut low in the back, with a slight gap left between the fabric and her spine. There’s something about that gap that arrests my attention. I keep thinking that if I turn my head just right, I’ll be able to see all the way down. I don’t do it, because I’m not a  _ total _ creep.

Persephone goes right up to Artemis and hugs her, and I wait quietly. “It’s good to see you!” my wife says. “Thank you for inviting us.” 

I’m impressed that Artemis is willing to have me over at her house at all. It’s a clear gesture that she cares more about Persephone than about Demeter’s accusations, or about her long-standing animosity for me. 

“You’re welcome, Perse. I’ve got all this meat anyway, might as well share it,” Artemis replies. She looks over Persephone’s shoulder and nods politely to me.

The grill is laden with thick, aromatic steaks. “It smells wonderful,” I comment. 

“Thanks,” Artemis says. “They’ll be ready in a while, and there’s a veggie burger for you, Perse. Drinks are over there.” She points near where the other guests have gathered, so we take the hint.

I grab a soda for myself, since I don’t want to start with a lot of alcohol. I hold the can up to show Persephone and she nods, so I get one for her, too. Drinks in hand, we join the discussion the others are having, standing around in informal clumps, waiting for the food. Eros and Psyche are already here, standing together. This party is just as much for them as it is for us.

“Hey, you two,” I say. “How’s married life treating you?”

“So far, so good,” Eros replies. “Kind of getting tired of that question, though.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Oh,  _ please, _ ” Ares snarks. “It’s so much better than being pestered to  _ get _ married, believe me.”

“I’m sure you hear a lot of that,” Persephone says soothingly. Everyone carefully avoids looking at Zeus and Hera, who are a few paces away talking to Hermes and Eileithyia.

“You’ve no idea! And now that my kid is married, damn, it’s non-stop.” Ares actually seems quite annoyed about it.

“How about that prophecy thing, though?” I say, changing the topic slightly.

“That was so strange!” Psyche says. “My family was shocked. Is that sort of thing usual?”

Everyone looks at me, as the eldest present. “Beats me, I rarely get invited to weddings.” And up until now, I told myself I didn’t care.

Persephone is looking up at me with gentle sympathy. She leans against my side and I smile at her. My hand rests on her back, just above that enticing dip. I want to slide my fingers underneath and tickle her, but I refrain.

“Still, it was really cool having that happen at our wedding!” Eros says. “People will be talking about that for  _ decades. _ ”

“I’m glad you didn’t feel upstaged by the Fates,” Persephone says. “It was pretty dramatic.”

“ _ Exactly _ ! I live for drama!”

Ares snorts and Psyche giggles. 

“Everyone already knows that about you,” Ares says, patting his son’s shoulder.

“The betrayer they mentioned,” Psyche says, low-voiced. “They meant Thetis, yes?”

Persephone and I exchange a glance. “That’s what we assume,” she replies.

Psyche catches on that we don’t wish to discuss further details, so she starts telling us about her commissions. She has several in progress right now, and several more in the negotiations stage.

“And you’re still working out of that little porch?” Persephone asks.

“Well yes, but many of these commissions are for murals,” our friend explains. “So I am working on site.”

“This is why we’re not going on our honeymoon right away,” Eros comments. “Too much business!” He grins at Psyche, clearly full of pride in her accomplishments.

Ares wanders away and Megaera and Athena come over to join our group. “Have you noticed the weather in the Mortal Realm the past few days?” Athena says. “I’m very concerned about it.”

“I’m afraid that’s my mother’s doing. She’s having a snit,” Persephone says. She looks sad, though she’s trying to keep her tone light.

“Oh, I see,” Athena replies. “I guess that makes sense. Still, all that cold, won’t it affect their crops?”

“Yes, I think that’s the point. The timing was such that the grain harvest was nearly complete. I don’t believe that’s a coincidence.”

“How long do you think she means to go on with this?” Eros asks. He has mortal family now, through Psyche. He has the right to be anxious.

“As long as necessary,” I reply grimly. “She wants Persephone back with her.”

“But we won’t permit it,” Megaera says cheerfully. “Praxidike belongs to us now.”

I could never get away with a statement like that, but I couldn’t agree more. Persephone’s gentle grip on my arm tightens and she smiles at the purple Fury with approval. She had every opportunity to choose her own path, and she chose to be with me, and stay in the Underworld. Demeter is just being a sore loser. 

Persephone catches the look of concern on Psyche’s face. “Don’t worry,” she says. “My mother planned for this. There’s a lot of grain stored up, and I’m already taking steps to provide more. People won’t starve.”

“But how long will the stored food last?” Athena asks.

No one has an answer for that, unfortunately. Eventually the conversational groups shift, and I watch while Persephone is pulled into a group of younger people, while my brothers move in on me with big grins on their stupid faces.

“Hades!” Zeus says, clapping me on the back. “Just the man I want to see. Are you free Saturday night?”

“If I say no, will it make any difference?” 

He laughs as if I were joking. “Nope! We were thinking it’s high time we take you out for a bachelor party.”

Poseidon nods, and takes a swig of his beer. “All these parties, we need something just for us!”

“Why would I want that? I’m not a bachelor anymore.” And good riddance to that, too. 

“That’s the point, moron! C’mon, don’t be such a stick in the mud,” Zeus says, rolling his eyes.

“We’ve been to something like nine parties in the past two weeks. The last thing I want is another.”

“Seriously, you are becoming a complete bore in your old age. This’ll just be a low-key, bros hangin’ out kinda thing,” Poseidon wheedles.

“ _ Ugh, _ fine. But no strip clubs!”

“Why are you so uptight, man? Persephone gonna get mad at you just for looking?” I’m already getting annoyed by Zeus’s assumptions about my marriage. He doesn’t get how we function, at all. 

“Not likely. It’s simply that I have no interest.” 

I glance over to where Persephone is standing, chatting with Eileithyia and Psyche with great animation. The urge to run my fingers under that little dip in her dress captivates me. I want to stroke her spine, make her shiver. I could probably reach her dimples without making it obvious to others what I was doing. I wonder if she would make me stop? Or just give me a look, promising requital. I keep an eye out to make sure no one else tries to take advantage of the potential view.

“Hello!” Zeus yells. “Seriously man, you’re just besotted!”

“Yeah, I am.” I make no attempt to conceal my smile, or my feelings.

“I was  _ saying, _ Hera wants to sit for a new portrait, with all of us. So, that’s going to take a shitload of time.”

“I heard. It’s fine, we’ll make the time for it.”

“It’s kind of a nuisance,” Poseidon comments. “But it’s right that you should get your turn. I remember how unhappy you were last time.”

I shrug. He’s not wrong, and probably I was kind of an asshole about it. It’s nice of him to be generous about this. I notice that Persephone is no longer where I last saw her, and I make a point of not looking around. Staring after her all the time is probably a little more obsessive than I need to be. 

“Anyway, Demeter sure is pulling some shit, huh?” Zeus says. “Who does she think she is, neglecting her duties like that?”

“If you let her express her anger for a while, maybe she’ll feel better,” Poseidon says. “She’s had to bear a lot of disappointments in her life.”

Zeus snorts, and starts to say something else, but seems to think better of it. I’m wondering what is making him show uncharacteristic restraint when I feel a gentle touch on my back, delicate fingers tracing down my spine, then circling around my waist. I have no need to see to know who is behind me. I raise my elbow over her head and Persephone snuggles into my side, her arm wrapped around me. I kiss the top of her head.

"Artemis says the food is ready," she says. She's looking at my brothers but her fingers are stroking my back with tender intimacy. I'm pretty sure her little smile is intended just for me.

"Fantastic, I'm starving," says Zeus. He and Poseidon go over to grab plates, and move up to the head of the line at the grill.

“Hi, you,” I say to Persephone. I’m perfectly content to wait to get food if it means I can have a couple of minutes with her. 

“Hi, yourself. You looked like you were getting frustrated.”

“Did I? Were you watching, then?”

“Mm-hmm,” Persephone replies, with a smug little smile. We walk together to get plates and stand at the back of the crowd. “Can’t take my eyes off you, for some reason.”

The idea that she’s just as enamored as I am makes my knees weak. Maybe I don’t need to worry so much about being a creep, if she feels the same way. I try to frame a way to address this idea, but it’s probably not a topic for the middle of a party.

People around us are waiting eagerly for their meat, but Artemis holds up her hand and scans the crowd.

"Hold on a sec!” she says. “Perse, here's your veggie burger!"

Persephone moves up and accepts the round patty that her friend cooked on the little platform above the main grill. I know she wouldn’t make a fuss if it had been cooked right next to the steaks, but she thanks Artemis for the thoughtful touch.

I wait quietly for the others to be served. I'm not sure that Artemis will really want to feed me, for all that she invited us. Probably it's just that her affection for Persephone outweighs her disgust for me.

Our hostess looks up from serving food and spots me.

"Oh, here, Hades. I saved you this one." She lifts a sizable steak from the grill with her tongs. "Charred on the outside, bloody in the middle. That work for you?"

"Perfect," I reply. "Did you hunt this yourself?"

“Yup. Big ol’ buck, got him right in the eye.” She mimes shooting an arrow, and I nod. 

“I haven’t had venison in ages. It smells delicious.” 

I go to the buffet table and add some other things to my plate, then head over to the seating area. Persephone is sitting on a bench at the edge of the patio. She waves to me, and pats the space next to her. I sit down with her and start eating, letting my eyes stray to my companion.

She’s so small. Absolutely adorable. My whole life, I felt like I was the right size and many others were too small, but Persephone sometimes makes me feel like a hulking brute. She’s sitting comfortably on the bench, her spine straight, her down-pointed toes just barely touching the paving stones. In contrast, my feet are planted firmly and still my thighs aren’t horizontal. This bench is really too low for me, but sitting next to my wife is worth it. I’m also occupying more than my fair share of space but Persephone casually reaches out and pats my thigh, not interrupting the conversation she’s holding with Hermes. Obviously she likes me right where I am. 

She dazzles me. Every day I climb to ridiculous new heights of happiness. The differences between us can be incredibly exciting, just as much as our many similarities. She has me wrapped around her little finger, and she must know it. I suppose I would resent it, if she were anyone else. She doesn’t abuse her power over me; instead she makes it clear that I affect her, too. I am able to render this lovely goddess weak with lust. I am the one whose attention she longs for. I am the one privileged to see her in the throes of passion, or in the depths of vulnerability. 

She doesn’t begrudge any of this. She trusts me. I’ve never known such pride. Her glance warms me through. “Isn’t that right, dearest?” she says, spearing me with her gaze.

“Absolutely,” I answer, with no hesitation at all. I have no idea what I just agreed to, and Persephone knows it.

She squeezes my knee and turns back to Eileithyia, who is sitting across the patio from us. “If there are food shortages, that’s going to be terrible for the pregnant women,” my niece says. “I’m anticipating a lot of difficult births. And the cold will be very hard on newborns.”

“Yes, I suppose it will be,” Persephone says.

“I can see about encouraging more and better weaving,” Athena puts in, sitting down next to her half-sister. “Perhaps my priestesses can make it a project.”

“And they’ll have to learn to use fire for more than just cooking,” I put in, having caught the thread of the conversation. All of us glance over at Zeus, who is talking with Artemis. I can well remember how furious he was when mortals received the gift of fire. It was a very uncomfortable time.

“If it gets bad enough, I suppose they’ll need to know about insulating their homes, and building chimneys,” Persephone says.

“Oh! That’s a good point, Auntie,” Eileithyia says. 

I blink in surprise. Is this how my nieces and nephews are addressing Persephone now? I look at her, but I can’t detect any reaction. She accepts this new title without a qualm.

“I can take on that project. Maybe mention it to Hephaestus, too,” Athena says.

“And Hestia?” Eileithyia suggests. “Seems like keeping people warm would be her domain.”

“Do you suppose she’d be willing to act in opposition to my mother?” Persephone asks.

My two nieces exchange uneasy glances. “She doesn’t want to lose worshippers any more than the rest of us do,” Athena says. “I’ll speak to her.”

Psyche sits down on my other side and I turn to smile at her, losing track of the other conversation. “How are you doing? Recovering from the wedding?” I ask.

“Oh yes! No one told me it would be such a test of endurance. You two were wise to avoid it.”

I laugh. We did avoid an actual wedding, but the celebrations have lingered for more than two weeks, so it can hardly be less of a trial. Psyche knows this, and is teasing me. “Don’t say that where Hera can hear you. She’s still annoyed with me,” I reply.

Psyche shrugs. “I am learning that it is important to live by one’s own principles, even if that disappoints others.” She looks around, and then leans toward me, to convey something more privately. “Is Persephone well? I know she must be feeling terrible about her mother’s choices.”

“She is. She’s channeling that guilt into work. Doing everything she can to make sure the mortals don’t suffer.” 

Psyche pauses in eating her dinner and seems to lose focus. She trembles for a moment and lifts her hand, then opens it slowly. A tiny purple butterfly, glowing with a soft inner light, rests in her palm.

“Hey, well done,” I say. “You’re making progress!”

“I have never done that before!” Psyche says wonderingly. “Persephone makes butterflies, too.”

“She does. Probably you’re making them because there’s a connection between you two. She’s your Sponsor, so it makes sense that her powers would influence yours somewhat.”

“Oh! That is so interesting. I think of Persephone like my own sister. I am happy to have that bond with her.”

I nod, smiling. It delights me that Psyche considers herself my wife’s family. Persephone needs that, and Psyche is an uplifting friend. 

“How is it going with your powers developing?” I ask. “That must be very strange for you.”

Psyche nods emphatically. “It is so strange! At any moment I do not know what might burst out of me, and I keep having these odd thoughts about people.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Well--” she hesitates, and then seems to resolve to go forward. “For instance when I first saw you today I thought to myself that you looked well-rested. And maybe that means your dreams are better.”

I can feel my eyes widening in surprise. I’ve never discussed my dreams with Psyche. I don’t really discuss them with anyone but Persephone and my therapist. “My dreams  _ are _ better,” I say cautiously. “Did you get anything else?”

She nods, and appears to concentrate. “Yes. I thought--your dreams were--I am not sure. But it seemed like your dreams were dark, and now the darkness has cleared.”

“A lot of my dreams are about my father,” I tell her.

Psyche squints at me, as if she’s seeing something new. “But he no longer talks to you,” she says.

I draw a sharp breath. “He was really speaking to me?” I’ve often suspected it, but no one has been able to confirm the possibility.

“I do not know,” Psyche says. “It is just an impression. Is this how powers develop?”

“In fits and starts, yes. It’ll take time, I’m sure. But it looks like your abilities might have something to do with insight.”

She smiles. “That is very exciting! I must tell Eros!”

I smile at her enthusiasm. I’m glad to have helped her in a small way, and her intuitions about me are interesting. 

More people come over to the patio to occupy chairs: Zeus, Hera, and Artemis among them. I suppose all the meat is cooked if our hostess is sitting down now. Persephone is still discussing food supplies with my nieces, and Artemis jumps in.

“Maybe I can help with that,” she says. “Organize some big hunts. They’ll be needing protein in addition to grain.”

“Why don’t I just order Demeter to do her job properly?” Zeus says. “Why should the rest of us be covering for her?”  
Everyone just looks at him. He can’t honestly be that stupid--his stubbornness is blinding him to reality.

“Because that’s worked out so well in the past?” Hera says. “Leave her alone, or you’ll make it worse.”

There’s an awkward pause after that, which no one is eager to interrupt, lest they become the focus of Zeus’s temper. After a minute or two Artemis goes on. “Anyway, I’m trying to do my part for the mortals, because they don’t have my brother’s help right now.”

Persephone stiffens immediately, and I notice all three Furies turn toward us from various corners of the yard, their sharp eyes focused on the patio.

“Yes, I’ve noticed they’re having problems with medicine,” Eileithyia says. “Not that their medicine is so impressive. I can take up some slack with helping women and children.”

“There’s a bunch of naiads whose waters have healing properties,” Hera puts in. “We can put them to work.”

Next to me, Persephone draws a deep breath. “I can heal people,” she says. Everyone’s been carefully avoiding looking at her since Artemis’s tactless remark.

My heart aches for her. She must feel doubly responsible, for depriving the mortals of a god of medicine, as well as the terrible new weather. I hold my hand out to her and she takes it, squeezing tightly.

“That is very generous of you,” Athena says. “Perhaps so you don’t waste your energy, others could handle the less serious cases?”

Artemis finally seems to realize that she brought up a painful subject. “I’ll take on the coordinating effort. It’s easy enough to get my priestesses to talk to his people.”

Persephone nods and everyone relaxes. Hera graciously introduces a new topic, telling everyone an amusing story about Hebe.

Aphrodite sits down in a chair on Persephone’s other side. She’s holding that red baby of hers whose name I can’t remember, and pawing through her bag with some irritation.

“Did you remember the sippy cup?” she yells to Ares, across the yard.

He apparently can’t hear her or doesn’t notice. The love goddess growls in annoyance. “Here, hold this,” she says to Persephone, handing the baby over. 

“Oh! Um, okay,” Persephone replies and sets her plate down on the bench between us.

Aphrodite gets up and strides over to harangue her lover. Persephone arranges the child on her knee, bouncing her a little tentatively. She seems placid enough, not minding being handed around.

“You look so sweet holding her,” Psyche comments. “I cannot wait to have one of my own, can you?” 

I freeze in horror, and try to get a read on Persephone’s reaction without making it obvious. I can’t decipher her expression at all. She smiles gently at Psyche. “You’ll be a wonderful mother,” she says.

I look away, cutting my steak and eating mechanically. I catch Zeus and Hera looking at me, then at Persephone, with open speculation. I know what they’re thinking and I want to tell them to mind their own damned business.

Aphrodite retrieves her child, still grumbling to herself, and doesn’t bother to thank Persephone. My wife gets up to go inspect the dessert options and I follow her. People are crowding around Eros and Psyche now, asking their intrusive questions. It’s a relief not to be the focus of attention any longer.

“I think Artemis must have got this stuff from a bakery,” Persephone comments as we stand looking at the sweets. “It looks a little too pretty to be homemade.”

“Not everyone has your talents,” I reply, smiling at her. I take a couple of pastries that look tempting. Persephone’s right, they look professionally made. 

It’s getting dark in the yard, the pink light of sunset fading into the deep blue of twilight. We sit back down at the periphery of the others’ conversation, not bothering to participate. Persephone snuggles in and I loop my free arm around her. This time I don’t try to keep my hand from going where I most want it to. I slip my fingers under the gap in Persephone’s dress and stroke her bare skin. She shudders slightly, and glances up at me with a knowing smile.

“Naughty!” she whispers.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“I didn’t say that, did I?” She wiggles a little, getting closer. "We'd better keep chatting so it doesn't look suspicious." 

I grin. "Ever the willing conspirator, aren't you?"

She holds out a bit of cake and I take it from her fingers, letting my teeth scrape her lightly. Under her dress, my fingers have found a dimple. 

***

We're among the last to leave the barbecue. It’s fully dark by the time we round up the dogs and call our goodbyes to the other stragglers. I’m feeling tired but happy as I drive us home. My weekends used to be this morass of loneliness, without the focus of work. Now, spending time with Persephone has become the highlight of my week.

I frown to myself, remembering that my brothers intend to haul me out next weekend. I suppose one party isn’t the end of the world. It’s one evening, not the whole weekend. Which reminds me, I should discuss these plans with my wife.

“Kore would you mind if I went out next Saturday night? Zeus is pestering me to do something with him and Poseidon. They’re calling it a bachelor party.”

“Oh, yeah?” she replies. “I think there’s a conspiracy. Eros asked me about the same sort of idea for that night.”

“Really? What did you tell him?”

“I said I have no desire to go out but having a few people over sounds fun.”

“Damn, I wish I’d been that clever.”

She shrugs, smiling gently. “Sorry.”

***

My life is radically different now from how it was a year ago. I wake up every morning feeling content, eager to find out what the day’s activities will hold. I hardly recognize myself. Work is still as it ever was, repetitive and unending, but now I have someone to share it. Someone I can talk with, who wants to help carry the burden. I already knew that Persephone’s capacity for hard work was impressive, but when she doubles down she astonishes me.

She attends every court session, sitting by my side and listening attentively. She’s a bit hesitant to offer her opinions, but she frequently makes notes and discusses the cases with me later. I admire both her caution and her dedication.

She’s still running the Shade Resources department, though she recognizes that she needs to offload a great deal of that work. I know it’s tough letting go, so I don’t push on this. She’s still liaising with the Mayor’s office about the new downtown development. I’m told that this project is being fast-tracked and the groundbreaking will be very soon. 

Persephone also attends every important meeting I have with staff. Some of these are meetings she would have attended anyway in her previous role, but others are about topics that are new to her, like marketing and finance.

“You know, it would be a lot more efficient if we split some meetings between us,” I comment one morning when we’re on our way to one of these.

“Oh. I suppose it would be. I’m just trying to get a handle on all this stuff, though. Like this is my apprenticeship,” she replies.

I smile gently. “You’re not an apprentice. You’re the Queen.” I hold the door to the conference room open for her.

“I know,” she murmurs. “But I’m not really ready to go solo yet.”

The conference rooms that we frequent have all been adjusted. There are two chairs at the head of the table, side by side. I hold Persephone’s for her while she sits, then seat myself. As we listen to the presentation on product development, we hold hands quite openly. One of many advantages to being married is that Persephone no longer shies away from public displays of affection. It’s one adjustment to her new status that she embraced without hesitation.

***

It’s the end of the day and I’m getting hungry. I sit at my desk, my chin propped on my fist, and watch Persephone. I love sharing an office with her. The room is ludicrously small for the two of us and we have to carefully balance our appointments so we’re not in one another’s way, but it’s worth it. I can talk to her whenever I want, or just look at her. In a way it’s a shame that this is only temporary while the top floor is under renovation.

“Isn’t it about time we go home?” I ask.

“Soon,” she replies, not looking up. She has one hand on a printed report, keeping track of her place with a finger while she makes notes with the other hand.

In the past, I’ve frequently worked later than this, just because I had nothing better to do, and reams of work to get through. Now, I’d much rather be doing something else. Last night we went home on time because Persephone’s yoga instructor was coming over. She doesn’t like breaking appointments or disappointing people. Tonight we have no such commitments.

I stand up and stretch, then approach her. She doesn’t stop making notes. 

“The dogs will be missing us,” I comment.

“Mm-hmm.”

Her desk, which she formerly kept scrupulously tidy, is becoming buried under stacks of reports and reference volumes. Looking it over, I get the idea that Persephone is putting herself through a punishing course of law and economics studies. I pick up a book and thumb through it. It seems to be a dry text about sacred law. I shudder and put it down.

“What are you working on that can’t wait?” 

“Oh, it’s Hermes and Moros’s weekly report.”

“You don’t usually give that sort of thing this much attention.”

“No, I… well. I’m trying to figure out if people are dying because of the bad weather.”

“Oh.” I feel a wave of sadness for Persephone. The pressures she’s facing in adjusting to queenship and trying to compensate for her mother’s actions must be overwhelming. 

“The answer seems to be not really, or at least not yet. I guess I’m being silly.”

“It’s not silly. Your compassion is a beautiful thing. I’m trying to learn that from you.”

She smiles up at me with soft indulgence. “I’m not being very compassionate to you, am I? Let’s go home.” 

She stands up and begins packing, tucking a thick stack of reports into her bag.

“Why are you bringing those?”

“Oh, I thought I could skim through them after dinner,” she says.

“Aren’t we watching  _ Shade’s Anatomy _ tonight?”

“I can do both,” she says, glancing up at me with eyes that are both guilty and imploring.

I’ve been giving a lot of thought to how I can encourage her not to overload herself. In fact, I practiced this exact conversation this morning with my therapist. “Hmm. What would you say to me if our positions were reversed?”

Persephone’s eyes widen further. “I guess I’d say you’re working too hard and you deserve a night off.”

“I think you’re right; you would say that.” I wait.

“But…” She looks shifty. “It’s not the same. I have so much to catch up on!”

“Kore, don’t you know that you’re blowing everyone away with how well you’re doing, how fast you’re adapting? Me especially. No one expects you to grasp the working of an entire realm overnight.”

She twists anxiously, fingering the reports. Then she sighs and removes them, placing them in the center of her desk. “I guess they’ll still be here tomorrow.”

I’m relieved that she’s not angry with me for this. I step over to her and hold my arms out. “I’m proud of you, Sweetness. You’re working so hard, and doing such an excellent job under incredible pressure. Please remember to take care of yourself, too.”

Persephone hugs me tight and gives me a sweet, shy smile. 

***

We decide to have dinner out, so we drive to a quiet restaurant we’ve been to before. The food is good and the atmosphere is relaxed, so by the time we reach home we’re both in a mellow mood. We’ve been flirting all evening, building up to a pleasant tension between us. I open the front door and Persephone steps through, glancing at me over her shoulder.

“Still want to watch TV?” she asks, a note of challenge in her voice.

“I don’t mind.” I’d like to see where this current mood leads us. We feed the dogs and then make ourselves comfortable in the living room with a bottle of wine.

Persephone pours while I click through the on-screen catalog, until I find the show we agreed to try and start it up. I can tell from the way the story is structured and paced that under other circumstances, I would be interested. As it is, I can’t focus on anything but the beautiful goddess next to me.

She’s wearing a clingy sort of dress in a cream color, like a long sweater, that leaves her neck and shoulders exposed. I am mesmerized by it. I want to bite her, I want to lick and nibble and suck until she’s frantic for more. I want to yank that dress down, and off. I want to possess every bit of her and make her scream my name. 

She kicked her shoes off earlier, and her legs are tucked under her, leaving her bare feet next to my thigh. I look down at her plump little toes, beguiled by her nearness. Having elaborate, arresting fantasies about my wife is my new normal.

“Don’t you like it, Smush?” she asks. She’s looking at me and smiling with sultry amusement.

“The show? It’s fine.”

The intoxicating quality of her voice would be more than enough to draw me to her. The further allure of her physical endowments, her humor, and her kindness all serve to keep me fascinated.

Persephone slides off the sofa, crouches in front of me, and places her hands on my thighs. She looks up at me with her limpid eyes and I can hardly breathe. “Really?” she asks. “Seems like you’re kind of distracted.”

“Oh, you want me to concentrate on the TV?”

She smiles slowly and shakes her head. “I want you to be entertained, Smush.”

“Consider me enthralled, little goddess.” 

“I can tell.” 

Her hands are stroking up my inseam. She’s not wasting any time getting down to business tonight, and I’m suddenly very excited. It’s shocking how quickly a low simmer can turn to a full-blown inferno. I lift my hips from the couch a little, encouraging. Persephone’s smile widens. She has me right where she wants me, eager and compliant.

With one hand she massages the juncture of my thigh and hip, her fingers teasing the crease while her other hand unbuckles my belt. She unfastens the hook of my trousers, too, but doesn’t proceed to unzip me. I watch her, fingers lightly tracing the line of stitching on my trouser fly, making me hiss with impatience. Slowly she pulls my legs apart and slithers in so she’s kneeling between them. Never taking her eyes from mine, she leans in and opens her mouth, fastening her teeth on my inner thigh. 

She doesn’t clamp down. She has one hand on my knee, keeping my leg still for her nibbling, while the other hand kneads my opposite leg with a deep, circular motion. My erection is growing more prominent and harder to ignore. Persephone finally looks away from my face, and sizes up my obvious arousal. It stirs me, knowing she’s looking, knowing she’s making a plan.

“What are you thinking, Sweetness?”

She lets go with her teeth and smirks just a little. “I’m sure you’d like to know. You’ll find out, eventually.”

She moves to my other thigh and repeats her nibbling, this time moving steadily upwards. Her free hand moves up my leg, fingers slipping under my balls, stroking me there with maddening little flicks. I raise my hips again, imploring. The restriction of my clothes is becoming uncomfortable.

“Take your shirt off,” she says, low and sultry.

I move immediately to obey. I ought to go slowly, tease her as she’s teasing me, but I can’t. I’m hot and getting sweaty, keen to get naked. I unbutton quickly and peel the garment off, flinging it away. I can feel Persephone’s breath right at the edge of my groin, infiltrating through my trousers. She’s not looking at me. 

She opens wide and begins mouthing the head of my cock right through my clothing. I gasp in surprise. The sensation is weird, and amazing, too. I can feel her warm breath, the pressure of her tongue, and what might possibly be the slight scrape of her teeth, but nothing of the wetness and engulfment I crave. Still, this sexy goddess is using her mouth to please me. On her knees, her hands exploring all over me. My arousal surges hugely and it’s all I can do to hold still.

Persephone pulls back and looks up at me. “Something wrong?”

“No,” I answer, a little out of breath. 

There’s a damp spot on my trousers. Persephone blows on it, and I feel the coolness spreading. Combined with the restriction, I’m starting to get a bit frantic.

“Sure you’re okay?” she asks.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” I say, gritting my teeth just a little.

“I know. I asked if you were okay, though.”

I don’t answer that. Persephone straightens up on her knees, letting her hand drop on my cock and beginning to stroke the shaft firmly up and down through my trousers. It’s a lot of stimulation. I’m breathing sharply through my nose to stay in control. 

“Come here. Kiss me,” she says.

I lean forward slowly, every movement further constricting my aching cock. I want very much to follow my wife’s every wish tonight. I love it when she takes control and shows me her growing confidence in her own sexuality.

She kisses with focus and intent, every movement of her mouth, every flick of her tongue deliberately designed to please and provoke me. When Persephone kisses me, I feel like I’m the most important thing in the world to her. I feel like I’ve just been given a prize. She pulls back a hair’s breadth from my mouth and regards me through slitted eyes.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you, too.” I mean it with all my heart. “What would you like me to do?”

“I want you to tell me if you get close to coming.” 

I blink in surprise. She wants to edge me? I’m completely in favor of this, but I didn’t know it was something she was thinking about. “Okay.”

Persephone nods and pushes my chest gently until I lean back into the couch cushions. The whole time we kissed and talked she was making teasing passes to my balls and the underside of my shaft. Now that she has free access again, she strokes in earnest, and with her other hand, she hooks her fingers under my waistband, working downward, stroking my bare skin.

It almost tickles. I breathe slowly and don’t move, just watch in fascination. Persephone is concentrating on her work, making a fist around my cock, still in my trousers, and pumping up and down. The wet spots have grown, this time from my own precum. I watch as she strokes them with her thumb, the damp cloth tormenting me with too-rough friction. I don’t make a sound.

The small pink hand worming its way into my pants exerts enough pressure that my zipper gives way slightly, allowing more freedom for Persephone to move. Her fingers reach the base of my cock and touch me there, tracing my circumference. I draw in a sharp, hissing breath.

“You all right?” she asks.

“I want you very badly, but I’m not close yet.”

She nods, and licks her lips. Slow. Deliberate. She means me to watch, and think about her tongue on my cock. I feel a cold chill, and sweat begins to bead on my temples. Maybe it was a mistake to show her about the delights of a slower buildup. Persephone is a  _ very _ fast learner, and creative, too. She’s not above doing research. I may be in for an extremely tense evening. Well, I’m prepared to beg if I have to. I’m not proud, not where my wife is concerned.

Her fingers on my bare skin are fanning the flames quite nicely, and her sliding hand balances between arousal and irritation. I think I can take a fair amount of that before I get too sensitive to be useful. I’d really rather let her explore and experiment. Persephone in experimental mode is a huge turn-on.

Almost as if she heard my thoughts, she looks up into my eyes with a big, mischievous grin. She runs her tongue along the edge of her teeth, and then her fingers move quickly, lowering my zipper the rest of the way. She yanks my trousers open and my briefs far enough down that my cock springs free.

The cool air is refreshing and I breathe rapidly through my nose to control my excitement. Persephone is gazing at me with delight. I stifle a high-pitched noise of pleading that steals out of my throat, but I’m sure she hears it anyway. The corner of her mouth twitches. If I looked like that, she would call me a scoundrel.

Her fingers circle the base, pumping up and down a couple times, making my foreskin slide. It’s both a relief, and not nearly enough. I am ready for what I think is coming, but I’m not in the lead tonight. I have to wait. Persephone keeps stroking me, adjusting her hand to cover more of my shaft, making the movement more dramatic. I sigh deeply as a large drop of pre-cum leaks out of me.

This was apparently what she was waiting for. I catch the flash of her teeth as she grins, and then she moves fast, capturing the entire glans in her hot, silken mouth. I yelp. I wasn’t expecting it quite so soon. I know I’m supposed to keep still and let her do as she pleases. She wants to torment me, bring me close to orgasm and back off. Maybe she intends to do this multiple times. I close my eyes and breathe as slowly as I can, trying to distract myself a little so I don’t lose control.

I love being inside her more than anything ever in my life. I love giving her pleasure and feeling it at the same time, working together to build towards mutual release. But for pure, selfish gratification-- _ nothing _ compares to being in Persephone’s mouth. Nothing gets me as excited, as quickly, as her tongue and her lips, the complete focus of her attention.

Since the very first time she went down on me, she has exhibited enthusiasm, ingenuity, and a desire to please that is completely unfettered by self-consciousness. I have never known pleasure this intense in my entire life. I could attribute it to her nature as a fertility goddess, and I’m sure that’s a part of it, but really--I think it’s just  _ her. _ She is kind, and giving, and she loves me. She wants to please me, and I’ve never known a stimulant to compare to _ that. _

She strokes up and down, swirling with her tongue, counter stroking with her hand in perfect time. I have no idea how she learned this. Native genius, I suppose. Reading that book. Damn, I should thank Eros. I feel her other hand under my balls, delicately fondling the super-sensitive spot underneath. I groan loudly.

I thought she might slow down upon hearing that, but she doesn’t. She speeds up, and adds some suction as well. I’m panting now through my open mouth and I feel my hands rising, without my volition, to rest gently in her hair. Persephone makes a deep noise in response, and pulls back, kissing the tip of my cock as she releases it.

“Yes!” she hisses. “Touch me. Show me what you want.  _ Use _ me.”

I’m shocked. My eyes open wide. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes. Just don’t come.”

“Okay.”

She opens for me again, her eyes on mine, and I push my cock past her lips, sliding into her hot mouth. Her tongue caresses my shaft and I gasp. I don’t want to choke her or frighten her. It’s hugely exciting that she wants me to do this, to fuck her mouth,  _ damn! _ I draw back and thrust again, in a short, jerky movement. I have little control. I move rapidly for only a minute or two. Watching what she’s doing, her eyes on me, the feeling of her tongue--

“Oh, stop now!” 

Persephone releases me immediately and sits back to watch me pant and gasp while I step back from the precipice. I got very close there, more than I should have. Another moment and I would have exploded.

After a minute, Persephone rises to her feet and backs away, smiling in triumph. She is fully in charge here and both of us know it. I swallow, and blink rapidly to focus my eyes again. Clearly there will be more. I sit forward on the couch, waiting to be told what to do. 

I would be thrilled to offer supplication to her, but I have a feeling she won’t allow it. Tonight she is revelling in exercising her power over me. I feel my skin prickling with excitement that she wants to be dominant. I’m anxious to please her in any way she wants.

“Kneel,” she directs, her voice snapping with authority.

I get up from the couch and kick my trousers off my feet, then move over to the center of the rug, away from the table and couches. I drop to my knees and look at her, standing over near the fireplace. Behind me on the big screen, the show carries into the next episode, music and dialogue continuing unregarded. Neither of us cares.

I wait quietly, watching her. It gives me a delicious thrill to obey her instructions. I’m naked and kneeling, ready to heed any command from my wonderfully playful wife. I’ve read that book that she treats as the source of all sexual information. I know there’s a great many options that are within the realm of possibility. My heart is pounding with eagerness to find out her intentions.

She stands just outside the reach of my arms, her eyes locked with mine, and begins to slowly remove her dress. That dress I’ve been eyeing all day, that hugs her curves and frames her sculpted shoulders.

Persephone shimmies her hips up and down, tugging it gradually downward, revealing more and more of her breathtaking body. I stay still with my hands at my sides and just watch. She pulls it by tiny increments, the fabric stretching, until it suddenly releases over the widest part of her breasts and bunches around her waist. 

She crosses her arms over her chest as if she’s shy about letting me see her in her bra. It’s pale gold and strapless, decorated with pink embroidered flowers and vines. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen it before, but I’d like to remove it with my teeth.

Persephone’s expression tells me she understands my urge perfectly. She doesn’t let me get within reach; instead, she turns away, still swaying her hips back and forth hypnotically. She looks back over her shoulder, bold and impish. 

“Are you watching?” she asks.

“I couldn’t look away if I wanted to,” I admit. It’s the truth. And I don’t want to.

She twists and writhes, moving her hips in circles. Truly, her ass is stunning. She doesn’t need to wiggle this way to make me watch, but the fact that she wants to makes me dizzy with desire. The entire area from my navel to my knees pulses with heat.

“You are so beautiful,” I whisper.

Persephone gathers up her hair in a bunch, lifting it way over her head, then releases it slowly in a pink waterfall. I sigh in longing. I want to touch that silky cascade. She looks over her shoulder again. “So are you. Kneeling there, waiting for me. It’s quite a power trip.” 

I can’t help grinning. I imagine it’s true. I like the idea of Persephone feeling her dominance over me. There’s no one else I would trust like this. I am enjoying this game enormously and I’m so glad that she feels comfortable enough to play this role. Being the active partner is a lot more challenging than being the passive one. I am relishing the chance to be on this side. I hope Persephone is enjoying it enough to do this again in the future.

She reaches behind her back and unhooks her bra in a smooth motion. She doesn’t let it fall; she makes a fast pirouette and lets me see her holding it to her chest. She twirls again, and her dress slides off her hips to puddle at her feet.

“Touch yourself,” she says. “I want to watch.” 

I swallow hard. She really intends to push me hard tonight, but I have nothing to complain about. I ought to be able to maintain enough control for this. It’s not like I’m deprived of sex--I think we’ve done it six times over the past four days, the last time being this morning. 

I do as I’m told. I make a ring with my thumb and forefinger, sliding it down over the head of my cock. Very lightly, very slowly. I do not need very much stimulation to get close to the edge again. Warm languor seeps through my limbs like fine whisky. I let my eyes close to slits, still watching Persephone.

She settles on the arm of the couch opposite, letting her legs splay open. She’s still holding her bra over her breasts, just barely covering her nipples but letting me see all of the lovely round jiggling. She smiles, watching me. Her free hand rests on her belly and slowly trails downward. Her fingers trace along her plump mound, down the vertical seam of her labia that I can clearly see through her underpants. The pale gold panties, matching her bra, have three satiny straps over her hips, holding a diamond-shaped scrap of fabric between her legs. It’s darker down there. She’s very wet.

Persephone’s exploring fingers reach the wet spot and she makes a humming noise. I let out a hissing breath in response. I want to touch her. My hand moves very slowly. Any slower and she’ll probably call me out on it. My balls ache. I catch a whiff of Persephone’s flowery musk, even from several paces away, and it goes right to the back of my brain. 

Arousal swells in me and I release my cock, moving my hand well away. I throb in the empty air, and Persephone grins. “Who said you could stop?”

“If I keep going I’ll come. I can smell you. You smell  _ incredible. _ ”

“Do I? I can smell you, too.” 

Her fingers reach under her panties now. I can see them moving under the thin fabric, and imagine what she’s doing. I lick my lips.

“Still can’t handle any more?” she teases.

“No, I can.” I put my hand back and begin stroking again, harder this time, along the shaft. Showing off my self-control. I’m going to pay for this, I  _ know _ it.

Persephone pulls her hand out and then drops her bra. She slides her panties down her legs and sits back on the arm of the couch, naked. She puts one foot up on the seat next to her, so I can see everything.

“What would you do right now, if I released you?” 

Damn, that’s playing hardball. The stimulation of my own hand, seeing what she’s doing, and now I have to tell her my fantasy? 

I take a slow breath and consider. “I would bend you over the back of the couch. I would fuck you with my fingers until you were wet all the way down your thighs, and begging me for more. I would bite your neck. I would lick your spine.”

“My, that’s very detailed. What then?” 

She begins to probe with two fingers. I can see the wetness, slicking her hand. The juicy sound as she explores deep inside her hot sex makes me tremble.  _ Fuck, _ I want her. I want her desperately.

“I would rather show you.”

“I’m sure you would.” With the pointer of her other hand, she circles her clit. I bite my lip.  _ I _ want to do that!

“I--” I don’t know what to say. My mind struggles to come up with something momentous enough to make her end this game. I want to hold her. I want to kiss her sweet lips. “I would eat you out and make you come until you can’t anymore. Until you see stars and hear the celestial harmonies.”

I have to remove my hand again. The ache now borders on painful. I pant wildly.

“That’s so sweet. Not what I expected,” Persephone says. Her eyes are heavy-lidded and I detect a flush spreading down her neck. I know the signs by now that she’s close.

“It’s true,” I gasp. “I’d do anything to touch you.”

“I know you would, my love. You can stop now.”

I was tentatively moving my hand back, but I stop obediently. She rises from the couch and smiles at me, approaching. 

“You were very indulgent of me,” she says. “Now it’s your turn.” 

She pushes my shoulders until I sit back on my heels, then straddles my thighs and squats down, sliding directly onto my throbbing cock. I let out an explosive moan and reach out to hold Persephone’s hips lightly, just enough so she doesn’t slide down my thighs. In this position she can rest her feet on the floor and use the strength of her legs to move. She is so small, and yet her appearance is deeply deceiving. In every way that matters, she is stronger than I am. 

“Hold me,” she whispers.

“Always, Sweetness.” 

I spread my fingers, gripping her waist firmly. She places one hand on my shoulder and leans far back, bracing her other hand on my knee. With help from my supporting hands, she can move, thrusting back and forth on my eager cock. I can’t move at all, or she will fall. All I can do is hold still and accept what my darling, beautiful goddess wants to give me. And she wants to give me everything she has. I can barely contain my spiralling arousal. I know I have to hold back.

“This position would work better on the sex couch, you know,” I gasp.

Persephone laughs, causing a ripple around me that nearly makes me come. “Too bad,” she says. “I like it here.”

“It is an incredible view.” I look down and see myself slipping in and out of her, moving in smooth strokes. I let my eyes travel up over the plush curve of her belly, graced with the lovely adornment of her indented navel. Beyond that, her breasts are swaying with her movement, bouncing gently. It’s hypnotic. Her head is thrown back, hair trailing over my knees. Her throat works as she makes a guttural sound.

“Touch me!” she demands. “Touch my clit. Make me come.”

I’m hugely relieved that she’s so close. Maybe I won’t embarrass myself. I catch her swollen button between my thumb and forefinger and make tight circles.

“Yes, oh, like that! Come with me, Hades, now!”

I have no choice but to obey her, and I do so with willful abandon. The hot flare rips through me, flooding my muscles with pulsing quivers. I spurt again and again, so hard it nearly hurts, forceful bursts that seem to drag all the tension out of me, all the hoarded control. I hold my breath through my climax, hearing Persephone’s squeals and feeling her muscles massaging me, pulling every last drop of response that I have to give.

We inhale together, gulping huge breaths. I wrap an arm weakly around Persephone’s back, feeling my hand skid through her sweat. She’s starting to slide down my thighs and there’s not much I can do about it. I’m quite depleted from the force of my orgasm.

I slip free of her body as she slumps down to lie on her side on the rug. I lie down next to her, gazing into her eyes while we try to recover. If I weren’t so wobbly, I’d go and fetch us some water, but what Persephone did to me left me shaky and exhausted.

“Sorry,” I murmur. “I need a minute.”

“‘Sokay,” she says. “Me too.”

I grin slowly, and then start to chuckle. Persephone blinks and then joins me in laughter.

“You are amazing, Sweetness. You keep coming up with new ways to astonish me.”

She smiles with gentle serenity. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am. I am insanely happy.”

She slides over and presses against me, so I wrap her in my arms. She’s hot and sweaty, but so am I. If she doesn’t mind, I certainly don’t. I roll onto my back and hold her close for a long while while we stroke one another lazily.

It’s some minutes before Persephone speaks again. “I really liked being in control tonight, but I wanted to say that I don’t mind if you’re rough sometimes. If I’m not in the mood I’ll say so, okay? Your percentage has been running too low lately, anyway.”

“Too low? Seriously?” I laugh, incredulous. “I thought you liked about 30%.”

“Oh, sure, on  _ average _ . But the variation is fun.”

“I see. I will have to reevaluate my stance on scoundrel behaviors, then.” I hesitate for just a moment before plunging forward. “For that matter--you’re welcome to be rougher with me, too.”

“I will keep that in mind. Perhaps we ought to set aside a time for a detailed discussion on this matter.”

I grin. “I’m all for that.” I nuzzle the top of her head and run my fingers through her hair.. “You ready to go to bed, Kore?”

“Yes, but I’m too lazy to get up.”

“I can help with that.” I stand up and lift her in my arms. She giggles and hangs onto me. “I love carrying you. Thank you for letting me.” We walk out of the living room and towards the stairs. Some of the dogs hear us and come out from where they were napping to follow.

Persephone places her hand on my jaw and turns my face toward her for a kiss. “Oh, anytime I can be of service, please feel free.”

“Oh, Kore. You don’t know what it means to me, that you want me the way you do.”

“Constantly, you mean?” 

I laugh. “Yes, but also, for snuggles and talking and comfort. Lots of outstanding sex, but the other parts are equally important.” We arrive in the bedroom, and I set her down.

“Well, I do want you,” she says. Her voice is soft and sultry, her eyes half-lidded. She pulls the bedcovers down, slides under, and opens her arms to me. “I want every bit of you, all the time. I can’t get enough.”

***

It’s been a real challenge for the architects, getting Persephone to actually talk about her needs and assert herself about aesthetic preferences. Some of the necessary changes are obvious: we’re expanding the dressing room, adding a sitting room attached to the bedroom, brightening things up generally, improving the heating system.

Outside of these basics, I don’t know what she would like in her living space. I want her to be happy here. She’s been so hesitant that I’ve asked the architects to use their imaginations to come up with a few schemes. I’m hoping that will spark some engagement in her.

The head architect looks very nervous when he comes in to present his designs. I can’t really blame him; I’ve made it clear that I want this renovation to happen quickly, and have spectacular results. The lack of input from us on what we really want must make that goal seem unattainable, and the risk of displeasing us very high.

I sit with Persephone, holding her hand as we watch the presentation, wondering if I should put off this project. I wanted to give my wife the chance to have our home reflect her, and not just my lonely bachelor life. I wanted to make a break with what came before. Perhaps it’s too soon.

“In our first iteration, we looked at the idea of a greenhouse. In order to compliment your disposition as a nature goddess, ma’am,” the architect says. 

Next to me, Persephone twitches. Her eyes open wide. There’s something about what he just said that she really doesn’t like. I review his statement and try to figure out what it could be.

“Oh, but--” Persephone starts. She hesitates for just a moment. “The purpose of a greenhouse is to concentrate solar energy in a passive way. That isn’t meaningful here.”

The architect nods with obvious relief that she’s saying anything at all. “Oh, yes, ma’am. But we’ve been looking at ways of providing artificial light that’s indistinguishable from natural.”

“Right, like in Elysium,” she says.

The architect’s eyes widen and he looks excited. “That’s the place you’ve created for mortal shades, right? We were hoping to ask you for a tour. There isn’t much information about it in the press.”

Persephone is a little taken aback, but pleased, too. She smiles with gentle pride. “Of course, I should have already offered that to you.”

“At any rate, the greenhouse idea doesn’t seem to appeal to you?”

She hesitates again. “While I like the idea of protecting plants, my role is more about rampant, uncultivated growth.”

“Savage and unpredictable,” I say softly.

Persephone’s big eyes flick over me, warm and approving. There’s a faint blush in her cheeks. She’s very pleased I remember that, I’m certain.

The architect is nodding thoughtfully. “Well, then. I think we’ll skip straight to our third option.” He waves to his assistant, who reshuffles some of the poster boards they’ve brought, and then launches into a detailed description of his proposal.

Twenty minutes later Persephone and I exchange wide, delighted grins. This is exactly what we’re looking for. The perfect design for  _ our  _ home.

***

On Saturday Persephone gets up early to start preparing for having her friends over in the evening. I’m pleased that she’s finally treating the house as her own. I get up shortly after her, and head downstairs to help. I find her at the back door, directing a delivery guy to bring a stack of boxes into the kitchen.

I start unpacking them. The boxes are full of bottles, a brand of wine I’ve never seen before. There are multiple flavors with improbable fruity names, all of them sporting colorful labels. Persephone thanks the driver and comes back to the kitchen.

“Did you get all this for your party?” I ask, brandishing a bottle. “What is this stuff? So many colors!”

“Shut up, it’s wine!” She pouts, playing along.

I read the label, and have to laugh. “Well, it’s  _ almost  _ wine. It’s some sort of fizzy grape juice.”

Persephone folds her arms and glares at me. “If it keeps people out of your nasty scotch, what do you care?”

“You’re right, Sweetness. You can drink anything you want.” 

I wrap my arms around her and kiss her forehead. She watches me warily and permits this, but is clearly ready to pounce on me if I tease any more. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I actually really love that we’re different. I love that you’re full of surprises, and that you keep me on my toes.”

“That’s better. I’m happy to give your toes their due attention.”

She turned direction pretty fast, there. A startled laugh bursts out of me. “Do you have time? I thought you had a lot to do today.”

“Nope. I decided to go with getting it catered. I’ve got at least two hours before the next delivery.”

“Oh, two hours. That’s quite a bit of time to work with. Have you got something in mind?”

“No… I’m in the mood for extensive snuggling, and we’ll see what happens?”

“Okay,” I lift her off her feet. She wraps her legs around my waist and I carry her towards the living room.

“You don’t find snuggling to be too juvenile?” she asks, gazing at me with big eyes.

“Of course not! I love snuggling with you. What brought this on?”

I put her down on the couch and seat myself. She slides into my lap and embraces me tightly. “I don’t know. Feeling a little insecure, I guess.”

I run my hands through her silky hair. “That is certainly an emotion I can relate to.”

Persephone hums softly. Pressed against my chest the way she is, I can feel the vibration. “Oh, I think we’ve made a tactical error,” she murmurs into my neck.

“What’s that?”

“Settling down for a snuggling session before eating breakfast. What were we thinking?”

“I don’t know about you, but I was thinking that I like snuggling with you even more than I like food.” 

She snorts and giggles, dotting my face with tiny kisses. “Even more than steak?”

This is just meant as banter, but I can’t help feeling serious about the question. I went years and years without eating a thing, and I remember very well what it’s like. Given the choice, I’d far rather go without food than without Persephone. I don’t need to bring her down by saying this. Parading my painful history is not something I enjoy. “Far more than steak, little goddess.”

She catches some of my serious mood, leaning back to look at me. “I know you’re upset about your brothers making you go out tonight. But we still have all day today, and tomorrow, too. Shall we make the most of it?”

I nod. “Yes. I would like that very much.”

It’s a tremendous joy to me, having someone who understands me so easily, and values my comfort, and makes me a priority. I wrap my arms around my darling wife and hold her tight.

***

My brothers pick me up in the evening with a hired car and driver, all the better to prevent my early escape. I’m actually impressed when we arrive at the venue Zeus selected. It’s an elegant restaurant with a soothingly dark decor. We’re shown to a small private dining room with deep leather chairs and a white tablecloth. I start to relax. I don’t have to gawp at some low-paid desperate dancer shaking her body, and hoot along with others in order to fit in. I can just have a drink and some good food, chat with my brothers and soak up the atmosphere.

When the waitress comes, she smiles at me. “Congratulations on your wedding,” she says. “I loved the interview. Your wife is very beautiful.”

“Oh, thanks,” I say, quite surprised. I can’t remember the last time a stranger spoke to me so positively.

“This is his bachelor party,” Zeus brags. “So keep the wine coming, okay honey?” 

“Sure thing,” she says, with a slight wink.

We order dinner and an excellent wine, and I settle into my chair, ready for the hazing to begin. Poseidon and Zeus have been pretty restrained in the couple of weeks I’ve been married, and haven’t even made much effort to get me to open up. I know there’s going to be a price to pay.

“So, a toast,” Zeus says, once the wine is poured. “This may be your last chance to eat meat, drink all you want, and look at other women. Make the most of it, brother! From now on, you’ve got the job of living up to your wife’s expectations, and you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t choose a goddess who’s gonna be tough to please. More power to you! Somebody needed to lock down that cherry bomb.”

He pauses to grin sickeningly, expecting a laugh. I don’t; I just look at him. He finally rolls his eyes and goes on. “Your willingness to throw away your principles and grab what you want shows just how much you love this goddess. I don’t quite understand why you had to give her half of everything, but hey, good for you, man. That’s touching. So. To my big brother: generous to a fault, idealistic, crazy in love. May the joy you’ve won for yourself never fade. May your marriage bring you everything you’ve struggled to find all the long years. May your wife always be forgiving. Good luck to you!”

He hoists his glass and gulps it down. Poseidon and I exchange a glance before following suit. The weird thing is, I know Zeus is crap at expressing emotions. This is his stunted attempt to demonstrate his sincere happiness for me. In a way it’s useful to me having his negative example before my eyes, as a reminder of how I don’t want to behave towards Persephone. I feel a wave of gratitude toward him. I don’t try to tell him, though. His ego is volatile: it’s hard to say whether he’d be insulted or inflated.

Poseidon seems to take Zeus’s idiotic toast as a challenge. He raises his glass. “If we all put our heads together and tried to create the perfect goddess for you, we couldn’t have done better than Persephone. You deserve all the happiness she’s brought to you. She’s turning you into a more relaxed and contented man, and it’s beautiful to see. We’re all aware of how much you’ve given up for the benefit of others, and how little you’ve received in return. You’ve always been the one willing to take on responsibility, it’s about damn time you got the reward. To Hades and Persephone!”

This time, there are actual tears in my eyes. I sip my wine and try not to let them show; my brothers already have plenty of fodder. Our appetizers arrive, providing me with a few moments of much-needed cover to get control of myself.

“So anyway,” Zeus says conversationally, digging into his food. “I’ve never known you to be such a rule-breaker, taking a bride by decree like that. I guess she wasn’t mad about it?” 

“No, she wasn’t mad. Persephone understands the difficulty I was in.” I would really rather not discuss this, particularly not in public. The details of how our marriage came about are not well-known.

“Still, women get mad about shit all the time. Taking away her choices and all that. Plus she started this whole political movement, so I wondered if maybe she had to be pissed off as some kind of statement.”

I shrug. “She wasn’t angry, what do you want me to say?”

“Hm, maybe something about how the old ways aren’t so bad after all?” He takes a bite of his carpaccio and grins at me while he chews.

“The old ways  _ are _ bad. Just because it was helpful to me in a very weird situation doesn’t make it right to marry a woman without her consent. I would never have done it if I didn’t think Persephone wanted me, too.”

He’s getting annoyed now. He hates when someone points out that Hera didn’t get a choice in marrying him. 

“You’re right though, consent is really important,” Poseidon puts in. “Times are changing, and that’s good.”

Zeus sighs, and changes the subject.

***

After we finish eating, we linger at the table over brandy and cigars. I’m wondering what comes next; surely my brothers aren’t going to let me escape after just a dinner together.

“Is it time for the presents yet?” Poseidon asks.

Zeus grins. “Sure, why not?”

Both of them have already sent official wedding presents, so I have an uneasy feeling that these presents are going to be more embarrassing. I’m deeply grateful we have a room to ourselves. Zeus pulls out a box and hands it to me. 

It’s about the size of a shirt box, which seems like an odd present. I unwrap it with some trepidation, ignoring the look of leering amusement on my brother’s face. Inside the box, I find what actually does seem to be a shirt. It’s white with wide, vertical pink stripes. I glance at Zeus with some asperity before lifting it out to check if there’s anything underneath, and find a matching pair of pants.

“Oh, pajamas,” I say. “How kind of you.”

Zeus grins. “Married men need pajamas,” he explains. “For those nights when your old lady is on the warpath.”

“Uh huh. Well, thanks.” 

I suppose that could have been a lot worse. Poseidon hands over a smaller box, also grinning cheekily. I open this to find… a doorstop. One of those rubber wedge things.

“Wow, I’ve been longing for a way to keep doors open. Thanks.”

Poseidon giggles. “It doesn’t just  _ keep _ doors open. It can keep doors  _ from _ opening, too.”

“Okay, and your point being?” I just know I’m going to regret asking.

“It’s a portable lock, for when you want to be tilling the fields, out and about.”

My brothers laugh raucously and clink glasses. I sip my brandy and contemplate how much I’ve changed. A year ago, I probably would have been pissed as hell over their idea of a joke. At this moment, I feel only happiness. Why would I feel anything else when I have won a seductive, adventurous bombshell of a goddess to be my own? I’m the luckiest being in all the realms.

“Your thoughtfulness leaves me quite speechless,” I tell them. They seem a bit nonplussed by my reaction, and I keep my smugness to myself.

***

As expected, dinner was only phase one of Zeus’s plan. We pull up outside a glitzy location with the name “Club Fantasia” written in multi-colored lights.

“What is this place?” I ask as we emerge from the car.

“You said no strip clubs, and it’s not. This is  _ burlesque. _ Strictly high class,” Zeus replies.

I roll my eyes. As we enter and look around, it does actually look a lot nicer than the usual run of places my brothers drag me to. The large room is arranged like the kind of nightclubs I remember from centuries past, with a low stage at one end of the room, small tables scattered on the main floor, and an elaborate bar at the back. The patrons include a balanced mix of men and women, all of them well-dressed. We’re shown to a table right up at the edge of the stage. The hostess removes a  _ Reserved _ sign and smiles at us, saying our waitress will be right over.

“You’re not gonna get sticky over this?” Poseidon asks.

“Certainly not,” I reply. “My beloved brothers chose this venue for me and I’m sure I’m going to enjoy it.”

The two of them exchange a glance and I try not to smirk. Defying their expectations is a lot of fun. We order drinks and by the time they arrive, the floor show is beginning. It starts with a glamorous opening number, including a singer and backup dancers. They’re dressed in fantastical sparkly things, with lots of trailing feathers and improbable hats. It’s certainly sexy, but not at all sleazy. After that, there’s a talented juggler, another singer, and a nymph who dances with a leopard, pretending that the cat is tearing her clothes off. Between removals, she struts around and tosses jokes to the audience.

I start to relax. This isn’t so bad, and I actually think Persephone would enjoy this. It’s more about the spectacle and the tease than it is about ogling naked people. The set concludes with a comedian. She’s a pretty nymph, who stands there looking sweet for a minute, letting the audience drink her in, and then she starts telling the raunchiest jokes I’ve heard in a long time. 

“Have you heard of this Fury Too thing? You know what I thought it was at first? I thought it was about women who refuse to shave. And I’m like, yeah, we should all be furry, it’s natural, that’s so awesome. Seriously, if I never have to pay for another waxing, that’d be great. What a rip off!”

“Yeah, my boyfriend’s a satyr. He’s the best. I’m gonna tell you why. He’s the best because he’s one horny guy. No, I’m joking, I’m joking! Of course he has two horns! And not only is he horny, he’s hungry for pussy _ all the time. _ ” She pauses to grin. “I’ve gone through twelve cats this month alone!”

“When I was younger I only went for gods. Do you know how horrible it is fucking gods? I never ever want to fuck another god, and do you know why? The oral sex goes all one way! They all love a nymph on her knees, lemme tell ya, but I never once got my pussy eaten! That’s crazy, man! Nothing in the world tastes better than nymph coochie. We even come in fruit flavors!” 

The audience is hooting and shrieking with laughter. I’m more amused by Zeus’s reaction. He started off chuckling but now he seems kind of offended. I look at Poseidon and head tilt at our brother. He glances and rolls his eyes. The nymph wraps up her set to thunderous applause, and the emcee comes out to tell us that we’re having an intermission.

The house lights come up and our waitress brings another round. I eye Zeus, waiting to see what he’s going to say. It’s clear to me that he’s bottling something up. 

"What is it with women these days?" he grouses. “Complaining all the time! It must be something in the water.”

“Complaining about not being treated as equals, you mean?” I ask. “How  _ dare _ they.”

Zeus scoffs. “I’ll bet you’re one of  _ those _ guys who actually  _ likes _ going down. Aren’t you?” He says it like it’s an insult. 

I turn to exchange a baffled glance with our other brother. “Are you saying you  _ don’t? _ ” I demand. 

Zeus’s expression is answer enough. He switches to defensive mode with startling rapidity. “Hell no! I tried it a couple times and I’m not doing that again.”

“Fuck, are you kidding? Seriously?” Poseidon says. “You make such a big deal out of chasing women, I figured you had to really be into it. Your poor partners!”

“I don’t get any complaints,” Zeus snaps. “Maybe  _ you guys _ need to rely on tricks like that, but I’m good with the usual maneuvers.”

“I’m sure you expect to receive oral, yes?” I ask, all condescending. “Don’t you think it’s rude not to return the favor?”

Zeus looks disgusted. “It’s just all… nasty.”

I shake my head. “Look, you brought this up--I never would have mentioned the topic. So I’m just gonna say your attitude is selfish and you might want to reexamine that. For the sake of your marriage.” Once again, I’m left feeling a terrible pity for Hera.

“Look, I’m just being honest here!” Zeus squawks.

“Keep laying into me with your questions and your honesty, and I’m gonna return the favor. Are you really making an effort with Hera, or are you getting resentful already?”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “I’m trying, but it’s like she doesn’t even see it! She’s angry all the time.”

“Hey man, it’ll take time to rebuild trust. If you really value your marriage, you have to put in the time,” Poseidon says. “You owe that to Hera, don’t you?”

“My therapist says to rebuild trust you really have to get into the other person’s skin and see things through their perspective,” I say. I used to be very circumspect about mentioning therapy to my brothers, not wanting to provoke their ragging. Lately, I’ve been learning that my emotional needs are actually worthy of others’ consideration. I figure maybe it’s time to be a little vulnerable.

“Oh yeah, you did that therapy thing for a while, didn’t you?” Zeus says, looking thoughtful.

“Yes. For a very long time.”

“Must be a relief to be done with all that crap, huh? Everything is going great for you.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m going twice a week now.” 

“What the hell do you need it for? You’ve got that newlywed bliss going on. Anybody can see how happy you are.” 

“Yes, and I want to  _ not _ screw that up! We’re going to couples therapy, too.”

“Seriously? That makes no sense, you guys are just getting started. Your wife adores you.”

“And we want to be together forever. I particularly don’t want my history to hurt Persephone. I don’t have a great track record, so this is a preventive measure.”

“You would literally give that girl anything she asked of you.”

“Yes? What’s your point? I love her.”

Poseidon nods, smiling slightly into his drink. “I think that’s fantastic, man. That's how it should be. We go to couples therapy, too. Communication is everything, right?”

I smile at him. I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s a lot more progressive than he seems on the surface.

Zeus squirms in discomfort. “Every time we’ve tried that, it was just a load of nonsense. Us whining and them repeating back to us what we said, nothing getting resolved.”

“It sounds to me like you only scratched the surface. Did you really give it your all? Knowing that if you fuck this up, Hera will leave you? Because somehow I suspect that you haven’t had sufficient motivation in the past.” I’m getting a little haughty, swaggering my long experience with therapy over my brother. If I really want him to do this, I need to tone it down.

The next set begins with an elaborate dance routine involving large snakes, then there’s a troupe of male acrobats dancing, tumbling, and removing clothes. They’re funny and very skilled. Another song and dance routine follows, and then more sultry, provocative acts, sometimes peeling some clothes, sometimes not. It’s all done with such witty elegance and humor that I quite enjoy it.

Eventually the show is winding down, and I’m getting tired. I’ve had quite a bit to drink. I yawn widely and don’t bother to conceal it. 

“Getting bored of us already?” Poseidon says. 

I shrug, and finish my whiskey. Honestly if they let me go now, I’ll consider myself lucky.

Zeus raises his glass. “The little woman gonna get mad at you for being out late?” 

“No,” I tell him, trying not to gloat about it. “She has people over. I’m sure they’re having a great time.”

Poseidon nods solemnly. “After all this time, man, I gotta say I’m thrilled for you. Persephone is a really lovely person, and everything you deserve.”

I can feel my face going soft with emotion. I can’t help it. “I’ll admit, I’m eager to go home to her.”

“Considering what you’ve got waiting for you, I can hardly blame you,” Poseidon says.

Zeus rolls his eyes. “Well, it is getting kind of late and I have stuff to do tomorrow.”

I nod encouragingly. I don’t know what’s come over my brother that he’s suddenly being responsible, but I am perfectly willing to take advantage of it.

“We can call it a night,” Poseidon says. “I gotta admit I’m impressed you didn’t make a fuss at coming here, Hades.”

“I would never have come here on my own, but I had fun. So thank you both.”

They gape at me for a moment and then grin at each other. I wait for them to finish their drinks, and then we all go out together. Zeus gives a generous tip to our waitress as we go, and another to the hostess. We stand outside the club in the balmy evening, waiting for our ride. 

“So,” Zeus says to me. “You have plans for next weekend?”

“We’re doing  _ absolutely nothing _ .” And I for one am looking forward to it. 

“Great! That works out perfectly. Let’s have the annual retreat this coming weekend, then. You can make it, right, Poseidon?”

“Sure, I suppose.”

“Why do you want to ruin another weekend for me?” I demand. “We’re finally done with these damned parties, and I want time alone with Persephone.”

“You’ve got your whole lives to be alone,” Zeus replies. “Besides, don’t pretend you don’t like screwing around where others might catch you.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Are you kidding?” He grins sharply. “Besides, we need to talk about this Mortal Realm crap.”

The car pulls up and I scowl as I climb inside. He’s right, but that doesn’t make me feel better. I can feel the alcohol in my system, making my joints loose and my eyes heavy. I can’t wait to get home to Persephone.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Parts of the standup routine were inspired by Ali Wong.
> 
> Beta work, inspiration, brainstorming, editing, and tv show names by Red. Love ya!


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